


The Best Reason

by tptigger



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: FitzSimmons - Freeform, Gen, Pre-Canon, bring your own subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptigger/pseuds/tptigger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Simmons talked Fitz into joining Coulson's team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



> Much thanks to donutsweeper for the beta and the Yuletide hippos for helping me find one.

Fitz stared at the lab. The benches were clear, Simmons's pipettes all hung neatly in their holder, tips on the shelf above the bench. Fresh packs of orange capped, clear conical tubes were next to them, upright in their styrofoam holders and still the plastic packaging. She had wiped her bench clear of salts, so that it was only a stark black.

His side was equally empty. His tools were neatly put away, the dust and metal debris also swept clear. There were no artifacts ready to be taken apart, no inventions sitting out because he had finished with the last of the Chitauri artifacts at half five the Friday before. It was now Monday morning. In short, he was looking at an empty, sparkling clean lab where there was nothing to do.

"They'll have something else for us soon," Simmons said as she entered the lab. "We should work on the knockout gun."

"Night night gun," Fitz corrected.

Simmons sniffed, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"It's the night night gun," Fitz insisted.

"Seriously, Fitz, we go one weekend without a new Chitauri artifact to work on and you get into the doldrums," Simmons said. "I think that was our first weekend off since the Academy. You couldn't even enjoy it."

"There were just so many new things to learn!" Fitz said miserably.

"We don't know everything," Simmons said. "Like how to fix the issues with the tranquilizer gun."

"Night night gun," Fitz corrected again.

Simmons smirked at him. "You want to name it, get it to work." She picked up one of her pipettes, inspecting it. "I may take these down to the shop to be calibrated."

"It just seems so mundane," Fitz said. "We've made a lot of weapons. I'd just like to do something new."

"I may have just thing."

They jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and then turned to the doorway to identify its source.

Simmons dropped her pipette, and Fitz's mouth dropped open.

"Agent Coulson?" Simmons asked uncertainly. She had seen his picture in the rota of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents killed in the Battle of New York. She only knew him by reputation, though, so she wasn't certain.

"What would be me," the man said.

Simmons furrowed her forehead. "Weren't you..."

"I was gravely injured," Coulson said.

"Where have you been?" Fitz asked.

"Recovering. In Tahiti, it's a magical place." Coulson stepped into the room. "I'm putting a new team together. Elite, the best of the best. We'll be fully mobile, taking the most cutting edge assignments. I'll need a field science team to help figure out what's going on so that we can protect people from it. You two have proved extremely adept at turning on a dime and taking on projects in which you have little to no expertise. You have complementary skills and..."

"We're not combat qualified," Fitz interrupted. "And have no field experience."

"You'll be spending most of your time on the bus," Coulson replied. "I'm well aware that you're not combat qualified, and I'll have other agents for that. I need your unique skill sets."

"Sounds like a dream job, Fitz," Simmons said.

Fitz frowned.

"I'll let you two talk it over," Coulson said. "Details and wheels up are in your e-mail. You'll get information on how to inform me of your decision as well."

Simmons ran to the computer and logged onto her e-mail.

Fitz followed Simmons, glancing at the text over her shoulder. "Is this a voluntary assignment?" Fitz asked.

There was no reply, Fitz looked around, but Coulson was gone. "He just... are we sure we want to work for this guy?"

" _The_ Agent Coulson?" Simmons asked. "Yes! Look at this, Fitz, we'd be dealing with unknown gifteds, potential alien technology, and unexplained phenomena."

"I don't know, Simmons, field work," Fitz said. "We're not trained for that."

"We've had the basic self defense," Simmons countered. "We're not cleared for combat, but we can do this. Coulson said so."

Fitz frowned. "From a bus?"

"Read the assignment, it's a S.H.I.E.L.D. Globemaster, a plane. More like a mobile RV that flies. Smaller than the helicarrier, but less conspicuous as well. It has wi-fi and cable and showers and toilets. All the comforts of home."

Fitz frowned.

"It'll be exciting! An adventure! Think of how it'll look on our CVs! We'll be doing different things every week!" Simmons said. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Not the puppy dog eyes!" Fitz said. "I'll think about it."

Fitz picked up his tablet and downloaded his own e-mail, sitting down to thoroughly read the job description.

* * *

Simmons got back from lunch a few hours later to find Fitz carefully boxing up his supplies.

"I brought you some boxes," Fitz said, indicating a stack of flat boxes piled neatly on Simmons's lab bench.

Simmons started towards the boxes, but paused at the workbench where Fitz's tablet lay. The screen was still up, a list of pros and cons for joining the new team. There was a long list of cons. Two pros, both starred for priority. "Work with exciting new technology" had one star. "It will make Jemma happy" had five stars. She looked up at Fitz and smiled.

"What?" he asked. He saw the tablet and his cheeks went red. He snagged it from her. "Come on, those pipettes aren't going to pack themselves."

Simmons beamed and got to work.

End


End file.
